Here, Catch!
by cheezburgerlover
Summary: You love the shotgun. Admit it, you do. But Gordon didn't love it enough. Because he didn't catch it when it was thrown to him. This is another little "What If?" oneshot.


_I was obviously playing through Ravenholm when I got this idea. Another of my silly little, "What if..." one shots. I command you to enjoy.  
_

Gordon Freeman released the saw blade from his gravity gun's beam. It fell to the floor, on top of the mutilated headcrab that it had just killed. He opened a door out of the room he was in to find himself on top of the building. The odd priest was standing on top of another building, about ten feet away from Gordon. A fog had settled into the infested town, adding to the eerie feel of the place.

"Here, brother!" The priest said in his gravelly voice. Gordon turned his attention away from the town and to the man.

"Come closer." Gordon walked the very edge of the roof. "You've stirred up Hell!" He chuckled. "A man after my own heart! Here, I have a more suitable gun for you. You'll need it." The priest, who called himself Father Grigori, bent down and picked up a shotgun. "Catch!"

Father Grigori tossed the gun at Gordon. At that moment, a zombie's scream rang out very close by. Gordon lost his focus on the flying gun as it hit his hands, bounced off, and fell to the street below.

"Ah, brother! This is not a good circumstance! You must go down and retrieve your gun, otherwise..." He didn't need to say any more. Gordon looked around for a fast way to get down to the street. Other than jumping down, which he didn't have the health to do, there was a red pipe that snaked down the side of the building. Gordon rolled his eyes, holstered his gravity gun, and began to slide down the pipe.

As he reached the ground and picked up his shotgun, he realized he didn't have enough strength to climb back up the pipe. Examining the gun, rubbing his hands over the barrel, he looked around for a door to get back to the rooftop.

He walked around the building until finally, he found a basement door in the ground. Switching on his flashlight and wielding his new weapon, he shot the rusted padlock on the door. He stepped into the dark basement, sweeping his flashlight around. The room was a mess. Two rotting zombies lay in a corner. A dead man lay on his mattress, a few empty bullet casings around him but no gun to be found.

Gordon ignored the horrible sight. A stairway led out of the basement and into the ground floor. A trail of blood could be seen trickling out from under a door.

_Just my luck. The stairs are behind that door. _Gordon readied his shotgun and pressed his ear against the door. He heard an odd groaning noise that he hadn't heard before from other zombies. Gordon pushed open the door slowly. A pulsing, disgusting black _thing _groaned as it saw him. It looked like the victim of the black headcrabs he had seen earlier. There were more than one on the zombie. It was a mass of them, a thick mess. Blood dripped down the zombie, which was weighed down by its cargo.

The zombie snatched one of the headcrabs off its back, and pulled back to throw. Gordon snapped to his senses and shot the zombie once with his shotgun, forcing the zombie to drop the headcrab.

The zombie was enraged now, going after Gordon itself. Gordon shot it again, but the only thing it did was anger the zombie further. It threw itself on top of Gordon. All of the headcrabs that were hitching a ride on it detached. The only sound Gordon heard now was hissing. The zombie clawed Gordon once. He bit on his tongue so hard from the pain that blood seeped out of his mouth. He couldn't take this any longer.

But then...a gunshot. A final, pained groan was heard from the zombie as it fell limp on top of him. "I remember your true face."

The monk's voice was unmistakable. Another gunshot, another hiss, and a headcrab slammed against a wall, mangled badly. Father Grigori reloaded and shot away the rest of them. He chuckled and gave Gordon a hand to help him up. Weakly, Gordon grabbed the hand and felt himself being pulled up.

"Are you okay?" He asked. Gordon shook his head, motioning to the slashes across his suit from the zombie's claw. "Ah, only God can help you. I... I am just a reciter of His word! If you obey God your Lord and do what is upright in His eyes, carefully heeding all His Commandments and keeping all His decrees, then I will not strike you with any of the sicknesses that I brought on Egypt. I am the God who heals you."

Gordon wanted to weld this monk's mouth shut. But he had no torch and no energy.

Father Grigori supported Gordon on his shoulders and helped him back up the stairs. "Next time, Brother, be a better catcher."

----

I spent an hour on Google looking for a verse from the Bible. It was annoying, but I think it was worth it. Now, I gave you this oneshot as a sort of birthday oneshot. It's my birthday tomorrow, January 25_th__. If you are sooo curious as to how old I am, message me. And send me cake._

_...And while you're at it, buy my cat a flea collar._


End file.
